Blind Trust
by Rayhne
Summary: A year after the almost-Apocalypse, Bobby finds an injured Crowley on his doorstep
1. Chapter 1

The first hint Bobby had of trouble was the hard thump against his front door then a low rumble that threatened to shake the house. With a sharp curse, he grabbed his shotgun and stalked over to jerk the door open.

At first he only saw darkness then he looked down. There was a figure huddled there, covered with the remnants of torn clothing and blood. He swore again and peered into the darkness. Seeing nothing alarming, he knelt next to the figure, half-an-eye still on the darkness.

It took him a moment to register what he was seeing. Crowley, the demon. Battered and broken, his skin cracked and bleeding and burnt. It almost looked like someone had taken a blowtorch to him but Bobby suspected it was more along the lines of holy water.

Bobby looked up and around, scowling. Was the demon thrown here as a warning? Or had he somehow escaped his tormentors and, for some reason, come here?

Bobby glowered at his uninvited visitor, fingering the shotgun. It would be ridiculously simple to put an end to the demon. Maybe even merciful, considering the horrifying extent of his wounds. Even as he watched the demon's skin smoked and cracked even more. Which meant there was probably still holy water on him

Bobby's scowl deepened, debating. With a sigh he leaned the shotgun just inside the door and kicked a path in the protective salt. Reaching down to grab the demon, he gritted his teeth against the feel of burnt flesh and pulled him into the house. Closing the door, he quickly closed the salt circle.

That done, Bobby turned back to his unwanted guest and was almost sick. The demon looked even worse in the light. What little clothing he wore was literally burnt into his skin and Bobby's stomach rolled. It was obvious Crowley was deeply unconscious and the man was grateful for that. Made it much easier to do what he needed to do.

"Right," he whispered to himself, steeling himself to once again touch the demon. He rolled him over onto his side, trying to see the extent of the damage. It was obvious the demon had been tortured extensively. mostly with holy water.

Bobby paused, swallowing hard against the bile rising in his throat. Despite the horrible burns he could see suggestive bruising on the demon's hips and thighs; the damage that could have only been caused by a violent rape. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to continue, seeing even more bruises on his arms and back. The damage looked worse on his wrists and ankles and Bobby realized that the demon had somehow been restrained.

"Great. Damn." Bobby rose and walked to the linen closet, pulling out a sheet. Gently he wrapped it around the demon before pulling him up into a fireman's carry. He was surprised at how light he was and for the first time realized that he was thinner than he remembered.

He set the limp body on the guest bed and pulled back the sheet, wincing as flakes of skin came with it. For a moment he dithered. How the hell did you heal a demon? Kill one, sure. He knew a dozen ways to kill a demon but none to help one.

With a sigh he walked over to the medical supply cabinet and opened it to look over the supplies. What could he use on a demon? For a moment he thought about calling someone but who could he call? And why should he anyway? This was a demon, for God's sake!

He stopped abruptly. It would be best all around just to kill the poor bastard. but no, he couldn't do that. Not without at least trying to help him.

"Hope I don't regret this, you damn bastard," he grumbled as he turned back.

ooOoo

With a grunt Bobby set Crowley back on the bed. He had finally resorted to turning on the shower and setting the demon in it to clean him. It proved the easiest way to clean him though hell on Bobby's back. Setting his hands on his back, he stretched then relaxed, looking down at Crowley.

Crowley had thankfully remained unconscious during the entire time Bobby had carefully peeled the remnants of clothing from his body and washed the holy water from his skin. Even worse was cleaning away the blood and filth from the torn flesh. He tried not to think of what could do that kind of damage but a part of him suspected it could have only been done with repeated rape, most likely by more than one assailant. Cleaning his hair had proven to be a nightmare. It had been caked with stuff Bobby didn't even want to think about and he had to resort to cutting out clumps. He winced at the reaction Crowley would have to that.

He looked down at the demon. He was definitely thinner then he remembered; his ribs were actually showing. That had startled the hunter. Demons didn't have to eat; they were sustained by Hell. Of course Crowley would be cut off from Hell, more so than other demons still in Lucifer's favor. Or maybe it had something to do with that anklet literally welded to Crowley's ankle, an unfamiliar sigil etched into it. Bobby suspected there were more on the inside, pressed directly into the skin. He could see no way to remove it short of cutting the leg off.

Bobby reached for the scrubs he'd found in one of the drawers and worked at putting them on Crowley. It wasn't easy dressing a limp body but he managed. As he worked he cataloged the demon's injuries. Three toe nails and two fingernails had been torn out and his entire body was covered with burns caused by holy water. Uncertain as to what else to do, Bobby smeared on burn ointment and wrapped those he could with gauze.

Horror had stacked onto horror when he tried to get the demon to drink some water. There was more damage inside his mouth, even his tongue was burnt and he realized that Crowley had been forced to drink holy water. Which meant he probably had internal damage as well. Bobby had forced himself to take a closer look and was relieved to realize that that damage was actually pretty much healed. Still ugly and undoubtedly painful but healing.

With a sigh, Bobby rose and left the room, walking downstairs and into the kitchen. His mind wandered as he made himself a sandwich, trying to work out when he'd last seen the demon. His hands stilled when he realized that it was almost a year ago. Had Crowley been held captive all this time? His stomach lurched at the thought.

Shortly after the almost-Apocalypse Crowley had shown up on Bobby's doorstep, his customary smirk on his lips. He'd teased and tempted and, much to Bobby's surprise, made him laugh before finally giving the hunter back his soul. He'd stayed for two days before leaving. Bobby had never thought he'd see him again, except maybe as the hunted in some hunt or another but Crowley had returned, loitering around, and, Bobby insisted, getting in the way. Three times he'd done this, enough to get him used to the demon's presence then it had stopped. Bobby had actually been disgusted with himself when he realized he was waiting for the demon to appear and that, heaven forbid, he actually missed him. He'd put Crowley out of his mind, ignoring the twinge of disappointment and went on with his life.

Is that when it happened, whatever it was that had happened? Had Crowley been taken then, captured and rendered powerless, kept a prisoner, something to be tortured and abused sexually? Who or what could have done something like that? And how had he ended up here, especially with no powers of his own?

Bobby looked at the half-eaten sandwich before tossing it into the trash, too ill to finish eating. Demons. Had to be. That meant there had to be a nest of them, probably a large one and maybe close by. That was just great. He'd alert other hunters as he could. He looked around, suddenly realizing it was dark and decided to go to bed.

What dreams he had that night weren't very pleasant.

ooOoo

The next few days went swiftly, though not pleasantly. Bobby tended to the injured demon and spread the news among the hunters about the possibility of a demon's nest. He hoped to get more information when Crowley was conscious and coherent, whenever that may be. He did research and asked careful questions, not wanting anyone to suspect he had a demon in his house.

On the third day everything changed.

Bobby had four books spread out in front of him, scanning first one then another when he heard a thump from upstairs. He paused, blinking then ran up the stairs two at a time, turning into the bedroom his guest was in.

"Crowley ... what?" Crowley wasn't in the bed and Bobby froze, eyes jerking to movement in the far corner. He could see Crowley crouched there, hunched over.

"Damn it, Crowley ..." He fell silent as a broken sound came from the demon. Crowley tried to push himself even further against the wall then slumped in defeat. His entire body was trembling.

Bobby took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Crowley." He tried to keep his voice low and gentle. "It's Bobby." He paused, frowning at the lack of reaction. "Can you hear me?" For a moment he wondered if holy water had been poured into the demon's ears, maybe rendering him deaf.

A sound that would have sounded more appropriate coming from a wounded animal was the only response Crowley made. He wrapped his arms around himself, rocking slightly. His head was down and eyes tightly closed.

Bobby moved closer, crouched just in arm's reach. "Crowley." The demon jerked at his closeness, trying to move away then giving up as he seemed to realize he was in a corner. One of his hands reached out to probe the wall and Bobby's frown deepened at a sudden suspicion. "You're at my place, Crowley. You're safe here." He reached out to touch the short dark hair in what he hoped was a comforting gesture.

The demon trembled harder, a low moan coming from his throat.

Bobby's face tightened, unhappy with the suspicions lurking in his mind. "It wasn't demons, was it, that hurt you? It was humans. Maybe even hunters."

Crowley's body stiffened and he hunched himself down, obviously trying to make himself as small as he could.

Bobby let his hand dropped and he leaned back on his heels. "Damn," he whispered. Satanists, cultists, stupid kids playing with demons ... all were possibilities but Crowley's reactions made him think that it might be hunters.

And he was a hunter.

So maybe Crowley thought he was involved.

"Crowley, listen. What ever happened I wasn't involved. I swear to you, I wasn't. I didn't even realize you were in trouble. If I had," he paused, wondering. "If I had I would have tried to help you." Crowley was listening, he could tell by his body language. "I think you know I'm not that kind of man. Torture for information is one thing but what was done to you ... yeah, I know." His lips twisted into a humorless smile at Crowley's reaction. "I cleaned you up and took care of your ... injuries."

Something crossed the demon's face and a hand wandered hesitantly down his body, finding and fingering the bandages. Some of the wariness left his body and he raised his head then his hand found the anklet. His entire body shuddered and he whimpered.

"I can't get it off. I'm trying to find a way that doesn't involve taking your leg off," Bobby said grimly. "Listen, can you talk? I saw the damage to your mouth."

Crowley hesitated, rocking. "Little." The word was slurred and faltering. "They ... hurt ..."

"But it's healing. That's good." Then what Crowley had said hit him and he frowned. "Wait a minute. Did they hurt you if you tried to talk?"

Crowley nodded jerkily, obviously gaining confidence when he wasn't hurt for talking.

Bobby muttered curses under his breath. He moved forward, ignoring the demon's flinch. "It's okay," he said soothingly. "I'm not going to hurt you." He reached out with both hands to cup Crowley's face. "Open your eyes."

Crowley whimpered but didn't try to pull away. His eyes blinked open and Bobby swallowed more curses. The demon's eyes were pale, the color leeched from them, and disturbingly blank. Bobby could have kicked himself for not checking sooner. "Holy water?"

Crowley nodded. "Every day," he whispered thickly. "Never saw wh-where..."

"Easy. Doesn't matter right now." But Bobby couldn't stop the sudden flow of words.

"In my eyes. The gag they used." His words were halting and broken. "And the ropes they bound me with. Down, fa ... face-down so they could use me whenever they wanted." He resumed rocking, his arms wrapping around himself. "So many of them, laughing and hurting and ..."

"Crowley!" Bobby said sharply, reaching out to grab his shoulders. He ignored the demon's sudden cry of fear, pulling him close into a hug. The demon struggled but Bobby ignored him as he gently stroked the dark hair, murmuring soft gentle words. Crowley slowly stopped struggling, relaxing into the hunter's embrace. Bobby continued to stroke and murmur, showing the demon a kindness he had perhaps never known before. "It's going to be okay. You're safe here. No one knows you're here and they ain't going to find out. Let's get you healed up and see what we can do about that damn anklet. Come on." He helped Crowley to his feet and back to the bed.

Crowley hesitated, reaching out to run his hands over the bedding before plucking at the clothing he wore.

"Scrubs." Bobby grunted. "Had some around. Come on, back in bed." He raised the quilt and guided Crowley under it. The demon huddled under it, blind eyes wandering. "Rest. I'll bring up some broth later. There's some water ..." He cut off his words with a frown. Reaching down he took Crowley's hand, ignoring his flinch, and guided it to the pitcher on the table then to the glass. "There. I'll get that broth."

ooOoo

The next morning Bobby walked out of his bedroom to find the demon out of the bed and making his way around the room with a determined expression on his face. He was running his hands over the dresser, muttering under his breath before moving along the wall, finding and tracing a picture on the wall. Bobby watched him for a long moment before slipping downstairs.

When he came back up, a tray in his hands, it was to find the room empty. For a brief moment he panicked then tipped his head at a thump and a muttered curse from down the hall. Setting the tray on the desk in a corner of the guest room Bobby walked down the hall to the open door of his bedroom, frowning at the sight of Crowley rubbing at his leg.

"We need to set up some ground rules here," he started to say then paused as Crowley let out a startled bleat and hunched down, head ducked as if expecting a blow. The hunter bit his lip, kicking himself for startling the demon. "First rule. Stay out of rooms where the door is closed."

Crowley raised his head tentatively. "Door open," he said thickly.

Bobby grimaced. "It won't be once you're back through it. Come on."

Crowley hesitated before turning and walking carefully toward him.

"Careful. Stuff on the floor," Bobby growled.

"Noticed."

Bobby muttered 'smartass' under his breath as he stepped back. Once Crowley was through the door and feeling his way back to the guest room, he closed the door firmly. "Breakfast is on the desk. That's to your left ..."

Crowley nodded. "Remember."

"Okay. Food's on a tray right in front. Eggs closest to you, bacon at 10 o'clock, toast at 2 o'clock. Milk's behind the toast."

Crowley nodded again as he fumbled at the chair, pulling it out and sitting in it.

"I'll be back up in a bit." He turned to go, pausing when Crowley spoke.

"Bobby." The demon seemed to struggle for a moment. "Thank you," he said finally.

Bobby hesitated, looking back at him. "You're welcome."

The demon, his head ducked in embarrassment, fumbled for the fork as Bobby walked from the room.

When he came back up to get the tray it was to find Crowley once again gone from the room and nowhere in sight. With a sigh, Bobby walked down the hall, finally pausing before the bathroom. He could hear humming coming from inside and he looked in to see Crowley exploring the room, hands touching everything. To Bobby's surprise, the dirty clothing and towels that had been scattered about on the floor were gone and the vanity seemed cleaner than he remembered. He opened his mouth to speak then, remembering how he had startled Crowley earlier, he stepped back several steps and walked back, stepping harder then usual.

Crowley stopped humming and Bobby looked in to see the demon with his head tilted toward the door, his expression wary. Bobby cleared his throat. "You wanna take a shower?"

Crowley hesitated. "Yes. Please."

"Fine." Bobby rocked back on his heels. "Think you can start up the shower? I'll get some clean clothes and towels." He left before the demon could even think of protesting.

When he returned Crowley had started the shower and was testing it with his hand. As Bobby entered, he tipped his head. "Bobby?"

"Who else?" he grunted, setting the clothes down. "Here's some clothes. Sorry. No Armani." Bobby couldn't help adding snidely.

The demon's shoulders hunched. "Anything ... anything good. Better than ..." The demon shuddered.

Bobby felt a flash of shame and sighed. "Right. Let me take a look here." He glanced into the shower. "Okay, did you find the soap?"

"On holder." Crowley gestured. "Shampoo?" He pointed toward a bottle set in a corner of the shower. Bobby was impressed with his memory.

"Yeah. Here's a washcloth. Towel's on the bar just outside the shower." Bobby matched actions to words, pressing a washcloth in Crowley's hand and hanging a fresh towel on the bar. "Come on down when you're done."

Crowley nodded and Bobby closed the door behind him.

ooOoo

Bobby made a quick pass through the downstairs, picking up loose items on the floor and tossing them into a basket. It wasn't as thorough of a job as he would have liked but it was better than it was before. With a sigh, he stashed the basket in a closet and walked the rooms, making sure doors were tightly closed.

Figuring he'd done the best he could, at least right now, Bobby walked into his library, intent on catching up on research. Once he'd moved all the books stacked on the floor to a corner behind his desk, that is.

He got so absorbed in his work he forgot about the demon until he heard his name being called in a tentative voice. He looked up with a frown and began to stand before reconsidering. "In here."

A few minutes later Crowley appeared, hand groping the wall as he made his way into the room. Bobby grinned at the sight of the normally immaculate demon dressed in too long sweats and a faded over-sized t-shirt. His feet were bare and his short hair, cut unevenly, was still damp and stood up in spikes. He paused just inside. breathing in deeply.

"Books."

"Yeah. My library."

Crowley nodded, carefully walking further into the room, his hands exploring the shelves. Bobby watched him for a few moments before returning to what he had been doing.

"Anyone know I'm here?"

The sudden question startled Bobby and he looked up to see Crowley perched on the edge of a chair, sightless eyes turned in his direction.

"No."

Crowley tilted his head. "Why not?"

Bobby leaned back and looked at him. "When did they take you?"

"A day, two, after I left here last." Crowley's words were slow, halting.

"You thought I was involved."

"Knew were hunters. Thought ..."

"Yeah, I get it. Understand why too. But I wasn't."

"Know that now." He paused, chewing on his inner cheek. "Why help?"

Bobby considered a dozen different answers before settling on the truth with a sigh. "Cos the minute you walked out that door you're a dead demon or worse and we both know it," he said bluntly. "And I owe you. For the legs."

Crowley seemed to study him with those blind eyes. "I attached no strings," he said slowly, carefully.

Bobby snorted. "It's called gratitude, you damn idjit! How about you just accept it?"

Crowley looked thoughtful. He was quiet for so long Bobby finally turned back to his work. When he next looked up the demon was gone. For a moment he wavered then rose with a sigh.

"Crowley?" he called out as he exited the room.

"Kitchen."

Bobby stopped in the doorway, watching as Crowley worked his way around the kitchen. He opened every cupboard and ran a hand lightly over the contents.

"Can't just sit around," The demon said haltingly.

The hunter grunted. "Careful. Sink's full of dirty dishes."

"Noticed. Thought maybe do them but ... " He gestured. "Holy water?"

"Took off the filter but there's probably residue. I'll scrub it later."

Crowley hesitated. "I could do if gloves?"

"That's a thought. Jes a minute." Bobby dug around, finally pulling out an unopened package of heavy duty rubber gloves. "Here." He set it into the demon's hands.

Crowley nodded as he worked open the package and Bobby took the time to study him thoughtfully. He'd never thought the demon, the former King of the Crossroads, would stoop to doing something as common as cleaning and maybe before he wouldn't have. Or maybe he was wrong about that, remembering back to Crowley's last visit. He had helped clean up them, had even seemed to enjoy it. And that was a good thing, since Bobby refused to coddle the demon.

Days fell into a routine. Bobby would be up first and working on breakfast when Crowley made his way down. His voice slowly improved as his throat healed but he remained surprisingly quiet. His smug arrogance was gone or maybe just buried under memories of horrific abuse. The injuries caused by holy water scarred and Bobby occasionally saw him running his fingers over the puckered flesh.

Crowley did what he could, mainly cleaning then spent his time listening to the radio or television and the two of them managed to live fairly separate lives. The demon was quiet and obviously unsure of himself, avoiding Bobby as much as he could.

Which made finding the demon in his bed all the more shocking.

It was past midnight, almost two in the morning when Bobby woke up to the realization he wasn't alone in his bed. He froze, eyes still closed.

_'Oh no!'_ he thought. _'This is not happening!'_ He took a deep breath in anticipation of sharp words, ready to kick the demon out of his bed and maybe out of his house but stopped when he actually saw Crowley.

Crowley was curled up on his side facing him, fast asleep. Bobby blinked and looked again, realizing that he was sleeping above the covers and was wrapped in the quilt from his bed. He wasn't actually touching Bobby; in fact he was almost at the edge of the bed and in danger of falling off. For a moment Bobby wondered what kind of nightmare could drive the demon to seek comfort with a hunter then decided he didn't want to know. After a moment of dithering, Bobby gave up and went back to sleep. When he woke up Crowley was gone. He almost wondered if he'd imagined it.

Bobby dressed, wondering how long Crowley had been crawling into his bed without him knowing it. He found himself sleeping lightly but Crowley didn't appear for the next three nights. The fourth night he didn't realized Crowley was there until a panicked whimper woke him up.

Bobby opened his eyes, not surprised to see Crowley curled up on the other side of the bed. The demon's eyes were screwed shut and he was making sounds in his sleep, obviously caught up in a nightmare. Bobby watched, uncertain as to what to do. He knew you should never wake someone up from a nightmare but his stomach clenched at the sheer terror on Crowley's face. Hesitantly he reached out to gently touch the demon's short hair. Crowley stiffened, his breath coming in short gasps. Bobby began to stroke the dark hair, his touch gentle and soft, something Crowley's captors would never have done. Even asleep Crowley seemed to realize this and he began to relax, fear draining from him as he settled deeper into sleep.

A couple hours later, when Bobby felt the demon stir and start to leave the bed he reached out to touch his shoulder. Crowley's breath caught and he froze.

"Don't bother," Bobby murmured. "You can stay. If you want."

Bobby didn't bother opening his eyes, just tucked his hand back under his head. After a long moment Crowley settled back onto the bed.

"Rough night?" Bobby asked quietly.

There was a long silence. "Some rougher than others."

"Thought so." Bobby shifted into a more comfortable positions and went back to sleep.

The next morning Bobby made pancakes as he whistled tonelessly to himself. Hearing a sound he turned to see Crowley standing in the doorway, looking uncertain.

"I gotta go into town. Do some shopping. You gonna be okay here alone?"

Crowley looked startled. "Yeah. Yeah, sure."

"I'll bring back some lunch. What would you like?"

"KFC." Crowley said without hesitation, walking over to the cupboard where the dishes were stored.

Bobby watched him, impressed with how the demon was adjusting to his blindness. He moved effortlessly between the cupboards and table. "KFC?"

"Yeah. One of my guilty pleasures."

Bobby chuckled at that and Crowley smiled slightly. He watched while the demon set the table, not surprised at the finicky way he made sure everything was set just right. As a precaution Bobby had moved the glass glasses to an upper shelf and was using plastic tumblers instead. Now he was thankful for that. It made it easier when Crowley dropped one.

Which he promptly did.

Crowley muttered curses as he dropped to his knees and searched for the tumbler. Bobby called out helpful advice and tried to pretend he wasn't amused by the sight of the former King of the Crosswords scrambling for a plastic tumbler. If he knew, Crowley gave no sign as he rose and set the tumblers on the table before making his way to the refrigerator to pull out the milk. He shook it with a frown. "Just enough I think." He walked over to carefully pour the milk.

"Mind getting the syrup out?" Bobby asked.

Crowley opened the refrigerator again, putting the almost empty milk jug back and reaching for the syrup. Since his arrival, the kitchen had become remarkably organized, much to Bobby's chagrin. In fact the whole house was more organized then it had been since ... well, since his wife had been alive. He turned back to the pancakes.

Bobby came back from town to find that Crowley had dusted throughout the house and straightened things as best he could. Laundry had even been sorted, though there was a pile that the demon referred to as undetermined. He carried in the groceries and set them on the kitchen table. By the time he brought in a second load Crowley was there, carefully emptying the bags. Bobby paused, watching as the demon felt each item before taking it to where it belonged and putting it away. Some items he placed on a counter and Bobby suspected he wasn't sure what they were. Well, he had something to help with that.

Groceries he put on the table; the rest he set in the other room for now. Once the groceries were put away, they sat at the table and ate, Bobby grinning as the demon dug in enthusiastically.

The demon really did like KFC.

"I picked up some more clothes for ya. And shoes. Try them on. Anything that doesn't fit I can take back."

Crowley nodded.

"Got some other things too."

"Oh?" Crowley tried to hide the interest in his voice but Bobby smirked.

"Clean up and I'll get the stuff."

When he returned the table was cleaned off and Crowley was wiping it off with a towel. He folded it and tucked it into the oven's handle, turning his head expectantly toward Bobby.

"Okay. Went to this place for the blind in town." He set the bags on the table and started to empty them. "Picked up a bunch of stuff that the lady there recommended."

"What did you tell her?"

Bobby hesitated. "Well, that you're a distant cousin from England. Had an accident and no immediate family so ..."

"You got stuck with me?" Crowley's voice was dry.

"Yeah, something like that. I'll see about fixing you up some ID and stuff later. Anyway. Got some books on braille, a braille label maker, kitchen helpers, things like that." He watched as the demon ran his hands over the items, exploring them with his fingers. His face was curiously blank and Bobby frowned. "What?"

"They won't heal, will they?" Crowley said hesitantly.

Bobby looked at the demon's face and arms, scarred by holy water and his washed-out eyes. "Maybe. Given time. But I don't think you want to be helpless until that happens. Look, I figure you're a quick study so I'll try and teach you braille. If I can't then Marcy ... that's the woman at the blind place ... said to bring you for a few lessons." Crowley looked thoughtful and Bobby looked at him, narrow-eyed. "You wanna go into town," he guessed.

Crowley jerked, panic on his face. "I ... maybe. I just ... maybe," he mumbled, his hands still exploring the items. "What are these?"

"What? Oh. Some CDs. Audio books. Thought you might like them. There's a few Lovecraft and some others."

"Oh?" Crowley's face brightened. "Lovecraft?"

"Yeah. Come on. I'll set one up for you. I got some work to do in the library."

Their days stretched into a new routine. Crowley no longer tried to avoid Bobby; instead he was there waiting eagerly for his lessons in braille. Bobby, much to his surprise, found himself enjoying teaching and together they labeled everything they could in the kitchen so Crowley could start cooking, an activity he seemed to enjoy. Bobby watched him cautiously the first few times then relaxed when nothing more drastic then the demon cutting his finger happened. And that only happened once. He did learn some interesting new words though.

Nights became routine as well. Crowley didn't even bother to start his night in the guest room, settling instead on the empty side of Bobby's bed. He did continue to sleep above the covers, curled up in a quilt but Bobby suspected that had more to do with his fears then soothing Bobby's. Which made the suggestion Crowley made almost two months later a complete surprise.

Bobby gaped at the demon, who was sitting at the kitchen table looking in his direction, head tilted in a manner what the hunter refused to admit was endearing. "Let me get this straight. You want to sleep with me?"

Crowley rolled his eyes. "I'm already sleeping with you," he pointed out. "I want to have sex with you."

"Why? I ain't gay."

Crowley hesitated, frowning. When he continued, his voice was surprisingly gentle. "No, you're not. But you are lonely. Bobby, when we sealed the deal, whether you want to admit it or not, you kissed me back. You want contact, even with a demon. And that hasn't changed. When was the last time you touched someone just to touch them? Or the last time you had sex with anything other then your hand? I'm not asking for love and roses. Just contact and release." His hands caressed the table. "Demons want those things too."

Bobby leaned back, studying him, searching for some hidden motive. "I would have thought, considering what happened ..." he fumbled at his words. They hadn't talked about everything that had happened to the demon during his captivity but he'd learned enough.

Crowley paled and he ducked his head. "I don't think I can handle penetration. Not yet anyway but there's much more to sex then just sticking it in and ..." His voice broke off and Bobby suspected he was too close to bad memories. He cleared his throat. "I'm just ... I just ..." It was the demon's turn to fumble at his words.

Bobby watched him, frowning thoughtfully. When was the last time he'd held someone close just to hold them? Caressed their hair and kissed them just to kiss them? When was the last time he'd simply enjoyed someone?

He rose abruptly, walking over to Crowley. Reaching down he gently touched the demon's hair, stroking down to his cheek. Crowley closed his eyes, leaning into Bobby's touch, humming low in his throat. Reaching with his other hand, Bobby traced Crowley's lips and the demon's tongue darted out to lick at his finger. The hunter shuddered, a part of him unable to believe he was actually going to do this. That he was even considering this. But Crowley was right. When was the last time he'd been with someone?

Too damn long.

Crowley didn't resist as Bobby slipped a hand into short dark hair and leaned down to kiss him. The kiss was slow and tender, a gentle exploration. Hesitantly Crowley slipped his arm around Bobby's waist, leaning into him, returning the kiss. His lips parted and Bobby darted his tongue inside to explore his mouth.

When they finally separated, Bobby was breathing hard and Crowley looked pleasantly mussed, his lips swollen from the force of the kiss. The demon's hand drifted down from where it was resting on Bobby's hip to caress between his legs. Bobby twitched, pressing instinctively against the questing hand.

"Upstairs?" The demon croaked.

Bobby pulled Crowley to his feet, his own hand reaching down to cup the demon's cock through the thick fabric of the jogging pants he wore. Crowley gasped, rutting against him. Reluctantly the hunter pulled away. "Upstairs."

Somehow they made it up to the bed, undressing each other hastily. Crowley ended up elbowing Bobby in the nose and Bobby jerked too hard on getting the demon's shirt off, sending him reeling into a bed post but the first touch of warm hand on hardening cock made up for everything. With a groan, Bobby grabbed the demon and tumbled them both onto the bed.

Crowley laughed and pushed Bobby over onto his back, scrambling up to kiss him, his hard cock dragging on the other's belly. Bobby grabbed his hips and held him firm for a moment.

"This no penetration goes both ways," he growled and Crowley blinked.

"Nothing happens without permission," he agreed.

"Right. Now how do we go about this?"

Crowley laughed again and showed him.

The next morning Bobby wasn't surprised to wake up with his arms filled with warm demon. Crowley turned out to be quite the cuddler and most mornings Bobby found himself waking up to gentle kisses and caresses. Some nights all they did was kiss and touch and cuddle, bringing each other off with gentle strokes. Crowley had no hesitation about giving Bobby a blow job, though it took Bobby longer to convince himself to take another man's cock in his mouth. When he finally did, hesitant and a little disgusted with himself, Crowley's obvious enjoyment made it worthwhile. Afterwards Crowley had licked his own cum from the hunter's mouth, murmuring words of thanks. The next time it wasn't so difficult and mutual blow jobs soon became the norm though penetration still remained off-limits for both of them.

Bobby continued his studies into the anklet that had been forced on the demon but found nothing. Defacing the sigil on it did no good, leading him to believe there were more engraved inside it. Crowley's eyes and the scars showed no signs of healing any further and the demon seemed to resign himself to remaining blind. Bobby faked up some identification, giving Crowley the name of Jaime Yates for their monthly trips into town.

Most days Bobby just acted as a knowledge base for other hunters and Crowley helped with information. Bobby was surprised when Crowley gave him detailed information about other demons until he reminded him that most demons were still after his head for betraying Lucifer. The hunter decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth and made notes of what Crowley as willing to tell him.

He didn't go on many hunts himself, only going when a hunt was close to home. Crowley was always nervous when he did go on a hunt, especially alone. Bobby chalked it down to the demon being afraid of losing his meal ticket and went off anyway. Crowley was able to keep in contact using the CB and helping out by searching the computer, now equipped with text-to-voice software and a braille keyboard. When Bobby returned there was always a hot bath, a good meal, and a willing demon waiting for him.

The house got even more clean and better organized. They worked together with many chores. Bobby sorted laundry into braille-labeled baskets for Crowley to wash and prepared the ingredients for Crowley to cook. He started to use an audio recorder during his searches and on his hunts and Crowley would transcript them into the computer.

It was oddly domestic.

Later he'd wonder why he was so surprised when the day came. He was sitting at the kitchen table, papers spread out on the table as he came to the not-too-surprising realization that Crowley was much more clever then he'd ever guessed. Somehow the demon had managed to transfer money from one of his many hidden accounts to an account in the local bank. Bobby wasn't sure how he'd done it without the people and demons searching for him knowing about it but he had. Maybe it was because the amount wasn't that much, hardly enough for the hedonistic demon Crowley was known to be to bother with but it was enough that Crowley was managing to build it into a nice nest egg. He'd been working the stocks and doing a good enough job of it that a nice sum was being deposited into Bobby's account monthly. Officially it was from a trust fund set up for the care of one Jaime Yates, injured in a freak accident last year.

Leaning back, Bobby watched as Crowley made his way through the kitchen, preparing a roast. He was humming to himself as he worked, fingers moving deftly. The demon no longer looked out of place wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers. In fact he looked comfortable. Bobby had gotten used to the scars on his body, could in fact map them out from memory, and the pale eyes were no longer alarming. He felt a pang at the thought that even after all this time, there was still no coloring in those eyes nor were the scars fading. Crowley was still a demon but with no demonic powers.

Bobby continued to watch the other man, enjoying the way he moved, those talented hands caressing spices into the meat. He bit his lip at his sudden arousal, wondering if he could entice the demon from his cooking and into an afternoon tryst. Rolling his eyes, he snorted to himself. Tryst? Where the hell did that word come from? Just because he wanted to tumble his lover ...

He froze, face going blank Lover? Is that what Crowley was? They shared a bed and their bodies but love didn't come into it.

Did it?

Bobby's face went slack as he thought about it. The little touches and caresses. The quick and not-so-quick kisses. The way Crowley worried and fussed over him when he returned from a hunt or even a trip into town. The way Crowley made sure everything was just as Bobby liked it and the way he himself saw to the demon's comfort. Hell, he'd actually changed his housekeeping habits, no longer just dumping things on the floor.

A part of him argued that that was just the things you did when your partner ... Bobby winced and corrected himself ... housemate was blind but the rest of him was too busy pointing out other things. The bottles of wine he'd started to bring home, much to the demon's delight. A sinfully expensive box of chocolate that the demon had shared with him one night, showing him ways to use chocolate that aroused him even now. Searching out audio books he knew Crowley would like and when he couldn't find an audio version, buying a paperback to read out loud to him.

Little things that, years ago, he would have done for Karen.

Bobby jumped to his feet so quickly the chair rocked. He steadied it and looked up to see Crowley looking toward him in concern.

"Something wrong, luv?" he asked.

And that. The little endearments Crowley said. He'd never realized before that Crowley meant those words, even if Crowley himself didn't realize it.

"Nothing." Bobby said gruffly. "Just going for a walk." He barely heard Crowley's puzzled 'okey' as he walked out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Crowley frowned as he heard the door close. What was that all about? He ran through what he could have done to upset the hunter and couldn't find anything. So maybe it wasn't him. Maybe he'd read something in the paper or something. With a shrug he turned back to the roast, waiting for the ding that would tell him the oven was ready for it.

He was surprised at himself, surprised at how easily he accepted his blindness and his powerlessness. Granted some days he was so scared and so depressed he just wanted to find the Colt and end his existence. A blind demon? One that was powerless to boot and trapped in a human body? By all rights he should be in Hell, the plaything of any demon who wanted him. He shuddered at the memory of his months as a captive to the human hunters. They may have only been human but the tortures they devised were worthy of demons. Maybe even worthy of Lucifer himself.

He forced those memories away as the oven finally dinged and opened the door to slide the roast in. He wasn't a captive any longer. He had a safe place to live, complete with an interesting companion. His life, compared to what it could be, was paradise.

The door opened behind him and he canted his head. "Bobby, I was thinking ..." He let his voice trail off, terror drying his mouth as he realized belatingly that the footsteps approaching were heavier then Bobby's. "Who?" He heard the unmistakable sound of a weapon being readied and he grasped the counter edge tightly, hoping that his knees didn't give out.

"Where the hell's Bobby?"

Crowley almost fainted at the sound of a familiar voice, though he wasn't sure if it was from relief or terror. "Winchester?" He refused to turn around, knowing that Dean would see his blind eyes. "Bobby went for a walk." He straightened, gathering what remained of his dignity like a cloak.

"What are you doing here?"

Crowley tipped his head. Dean, he knew, called every couple weeks but Bobby had never told him of his demonic guest. But what else could he say? "I live here."

"You what? Like hell!"

His fingers tightened on the counter. "I do! Have been for a while. Bobby probably didn't want you going off half-cocked about it and ..."

The door slammed open and Crowley fell silent, relief flooding him.

"Damn it, Dean! You couldn't call ahead?" Bobby said in disgust. "Put that damn thing away. You ain't shooting him. I'm the only one who gets to do that."

Crowley smiled.

ooOoo

Bobby's first thought on seeing the Impala was a happy one that Dean had finally come to visit. The second was that Dean didn't know about Crowley and that couldn't end well. He swore and ran to the house, throwing open the door in time to see Dean leveling a rifle at the demon's ... his demon, damn it! ... back.

"Damn it, Dean! You couldn't call ahead? Put that damn thing away. You ain't shooting him. I'm the only one who gets to do that." He saw Crowley sag in relief.

"Bobby? What the hell's he doing here?" Dean gestured at Crowley with the rifle.

"He lives here. Now put it down!" Bobby wasn't certain what he'd do if Dean didn't put it down.

After a moment Dean finally lowered the rifle, his lips thin with anger. "What's he doing living here?"

"Nowhere else to go." Bobby grunted. "Besides ..."

"Bobby. No." Crowley's words were a plea.

Bobby shook his head. "He's gonna figure it out. Might as well just tell him."

Crowley frowned but didn't protest again. Instead he turned to face the hunters, his eyes open. At the sight of his eyes Dean gasped and started to raise the rifle but Bobby grabbed it and held the muzzle pointed to the ground.

"Stop it, Dean. Crowley's blind."

"What?" Dean looked from Bobby back to Crowley. "Lilith had white eyes."

"Lilith had white eyes because she was that kind of demon. Crowley has white eyes because some fucking bastards spent a year pouring holy water into them, making him blind." Bobby said with a trace of bitterness. "Trust me. Crowley's blind. And powerless."

"What? How?" Dean gripped the rifle as Bobby tried to take it away then, at the older man's frown, finally released it.

"We don't know." Bobby put the gun away. "I found him on my porch some months ago. He's been here ever since. Didn't want to let anyone else know he was here."

"I can understand that." Dean watched Crowley warily but the demon ignored him as he turned back to clean the counter. "How'd he get here?"

Bobby's lips thinned. "I don't know and neither does he. Crowley, we're going for a walk."

Crowley nodded. "Apple cobbler for dessert?"

"Sure. Think you can handle it?"

Crowley smiled. "I can only try."

Bobby shook his head. "Go for it. Don't set the house on fire."

The demon sniffed at that and the two men walked from the house.

Bobby lead Dean away from the house before he started speaking again. "Don't know how he got here. Wasn't under his own power. He was so weak he could barely stand. He'd been ..." Bobby hesitated then went for bluntness. "He'd been tortured and gang-raped repeatedly over several months. Took me some time to get him to trust me enough to even get near him."

Dean winced. "Well, what can you expect from demons," he started.

"Wasn't demons." Bobby's voice was harsh. "Humans. Hunters maybe. They figured out a way to bind him, render him powerless then they turned him into a toy." His anger showed in the way he spit out the words. He visibly took control of himself, kicking at a stone in his path. "I don't know who they are but they are some seriously sick bastards. The things they did to him ..."

"Worse then what demons do to humans?" Dean asked sharply.

Bobby stopped dead. "Maybe not but that doesn't excuse them. Does it?" He glared at the younger hunter.

Dean hunched his shoulders. "Maybe not but I can understand ..."

"Understand what? Tying a demon down with ropes soaked in holy water so he can be repeatedly raped by God knows how many men every day? Pouring holy water on him for fun? Forcing him to drink holy water so he can't talk and using it to blind him? For almost an entire year? Maybe you can understand it but I can't. We kill demons because we have to. If we torture them it's because we have no other choice. We don't do it for fun and we don't turn it into some kind of game! Damn it, Dean, we're better than demons!" He paused, breathing hard as he looked at Dean. "At least we're supposed to be." Taking a deep breath, he continued in a calmer voice. "I don't know how Crowley ended up on my doorstep but he's here and he's got nowhere else to go. He's adjusting to being blind pretty well. Better then I could, that's for certain."

Bobby turned, heading back toward the house. Dean walked next to him.

"So you're just letting him stay?"

Bobby snorted. "What do you recommend I do? He's blind and powerless. Easy prey for anyone out there." Bobby shook his head. "I couldn't just throw him out. He'd end up someone else's toy."

"Could just kill him. You got the Colt."

Bobby's lips thinned. "Thought about it, when he first appeared. Might have been more merciful. But I owed the bastard to at least try and help him." He looked toward the house, his expression softening. "It's worked out well."

Dean gave him a strange look. "Powers or no powers, he's still a demon, Bobby. Manipulative, self-centered."

"So are more than a few humans. I can handle it."

"Corruption is what he does, Bobby! How much of your life has he weaseled his way into? How long before he tries to seduce you in other ways? I mean ..."

Dean's voice trailed off and Bobby scowled, wondering what he'd done to give himself away.

"You're sleeping with him," Dean said, disgust in his voice.

Swallowing laughter at his wording, Bobby rolled his eyes. "That's our business," he said gruffly.

Dean looked like he was going to be sick and Bobby wondered if it was at the thought of him sleeping with a demon or him sleeping with a man.

"And he didn't trick me into it," he growled. "So get that thought out of your head."

"But you're not gay!" Dean burst out.

Bobby paused, not surprised that that was Dean's immediate concern. He tipped his head thoughtfully. "I wasn't, no. I still like women but, ever since Karen," he let that thought trailed off. "Guess I'm bi these days," he said finally. He sighed at the look Dean gave him. "Look, I ain't gonna try to explain it. Especially since I doubt you really care. I'm stuck with Crowley, not that he's bad company. We're making the best of the situation and if that means sharing a bed," he shrugged. "It has its perks."

He glanced toward the house and a smile tugged his lips at the sight of Crowley standing out on the porch, one hand gripping the rail as he enjoyed the sunlight on his face. He heard Dean hissed between his teeth.

"What is it with this family and demons?" he said in disgust. "Who fucks who, anyway? Crowley's such a ..."

The next thing Dean knew he was on the ground with an aching jaw and stars in his eyes. He could hear Crowley calling out anxiously.

"It's okay, Crowley! Dean's just being an ass again!" Bobby shouted over his shoulder then he looked down at Dean, anger clipping his words. "I can still beat the shit out of you, boy, and don't you forget it! What's between me and Crowley is our business and no one else's." He reached down to haul Dean to his feet. "If you can't handle it you know where the damn door is." He shoved the younger man away and stormed back to the house.

Dean didn't bother coming back into the house and they soon heard the Impala roaring away. Bobby drank too much whiskey that night and Crowley helped him upstairs and into bed. For a moment he debated sleeping in the guest room before finally crawling into bed next to his sleeping lover. This was his home now and he wasn't going to let some homophobic bastard ruin it.

ooOoo

Dean floored the Impala, ignoring the speed limit as he raced away from Bobby's place. He felt sick at the thought of Bobby with a man, not to mention with a demon. Especially that demon. He wondered what had really happened. He doubted Crowley was really blind. It was more likely just some trick to suborn Bobby, maybe get his soul for real this time and the demon was using Bobby's gratitude for the return of his legs to get the older hunter to let him stay. So what if the demon had given it back to set him the first time? A hunter's soul was worth a lot in Hell.

"You are going to kill yourself if you keep up this speed," Castiel said from the passenger seat and Dean jerked, almost sending the car into a spin. He regained control and pulled the car over, turned to glare at the angel.

"Only if I'm distracted at the wrong time," he growled, not feeling very friendly at the moment, despite the fact that he hadn't seen Castiel in some time. In fact the last time he's talked to Castiel ... he frowned. "You said Bobby was doing okay." he said accusingly.

Castiel frowned. "The last time I checked on him he was."

"Yeah well you neglected to mention that he's living with that damn Crowley! And fucking him as well!"

The angel's eyes narrowed. "I was not aware of this," he said slowly. "There was no sign of the demon there when last I checked."

"Okay so maybe he wasn't there then," Dean said, realizing he had no idea how long Crowley had been at Bobby's.

Castiel leaned back in the seat, frowning. "There are many looking for the demon Crowley," he said slowly. "Perhaps he is hiding out there?"

Dean snorted. "He's definitely up to something. Apparently he hit Bobby with some sob story and has totally sucked him in."

"Bobby is the one who struck you?"

Dean probed his jaw and winced. "Yeah. So you can see ..."

"What sob story?" Castiel interrupted.

"Ahhhh." Dean remembered the scars on the demon and those unnerving white eyes. "Says he was held prisoner by someone. He claims hunters. Tortured and ... stuff."

"How did he end up with Bobby?"

"Bobby opened his front door and there he was. This is something Crowley set up. I'm not sure why but there's got to be something Crowley's after."

The angel fell silent for a long moment. "And they are having a relationship?"

Dean winced, this time at Castiel's wording. "Hell, no! I mean, they're screwing. Well, I think they are but, look, if anything else that proves Crowley's messing with him! Bobby isn't gay."

Castiel tipped his head, studying him intently. "I will check into this as I can." He sighed at the look Dean gave him. "I am very busy in Heaven but I will do what I can as I can. Do not do anything ..." he wisely omitted the word foolish before continuing. "Until I get back to you." With that he vanished.

Dean scowled after him. "Yeah, sure," he muttered as he started the car.

ooOoo

Castiel was uncertain as to what he would find when he finally managed to pop into Bobby's the next morning. He moved cautiously, keeping himself unseen but he knew the demon would be able to detect him as soon as he entered the house.

Except he didn't.

He found Bobby and Crowley in the kitchen, Bobby drinking a hideous concoction that the angel recognized as the hunter's surefire hangover cure, Crowley taunting him about said hangover. Castiel expected no less from a demon yet Crowley's words had a tone to them he never would have associated with one of the hell-spawn.

Fondness.

He watched as the demon made his way around the kitchen, putting together breakfast despite the fact that he obviously couldn't see. It was equally obvious that Crowley couldn't sense him, not even when Castiel deliberately moved close to him, almost within touching distance. He took the opportunity to study the demon's injuries and he found himself wincing at the ugly scars and damaged eyes. These injuries, he realized, were very real.

He drifted back to observe and listen.

ooOoo

"I understand how you feel about Dean, Bobby." Crowley's voice was soothing then he paused. "Well, all right. Maybe I don't. Not exactly. But you know as well as I do that he's using the fact that I'm a demon to cover his homophobia."

Bobby grimaced. "You think he'd have less of a problem if you were female?"

"He put up with Ruby, didn't he? When she was with Sam."

"He still wanted to gank her."

Crowley shrugged. "But he didn't." He picked up the two plates and walked over to set one in front of Bobby and the other at his place. He returned over to get the milk, carefully pouring two glasses and carrying them over as well. "If I weren't Crowley the demon but just Jaime Yates, your distant cousin from England he'd be having just as big of of a fit. Only in that case it would have been about you having sex with a man."

Bobby grimaced at that then sighed. He started to speak then cut himself off, poking at the eggs with his fork and scowling.

"You're wondering if what we have is worth it," Crowley said bluntly. "If you should just kill me and be done with it."

Bobby rocked back, glaring at the demon.

"It would make life easier all around." Now there was bitterness in the demon's voice. "Free you from feeling you need to take care of me. Satisfy Dean that the evil demon controlling your life is gone. Hell, maybe it's even best for me." He reached up to touch an eye. "What good is a blind, powerless demon anyway? Sooner or later someone will figure out where I am and come for me. End it now and ..."

"Stop that!" Bobby slammed both hands on the table and shoved himself to his feet. He dragged Crowley from his chair and shook him. "That ain't happening."

"When you were in that wheelchair how many times did you think about killing yourself?"

Bobby took a deep breath. "Once a day. At least." His hands tightened on the other's shoulders. "Is that what you want?"

Crowley's breath caught and he turned his head away. "Sometimes. When the nightmares get bad. When I feel so damn helpless," he whispered. "But most times." He paused, tilting his head. When next he spoke his voice was stronger. "Most times I am content." He reached up to grip Bobby's wrists, a surprisingly soft smile on his face. "Can you live with the way Dean feels about you? About us?"

Bobby frowned thoughtfully before slowly nodding. "Yeah. Yeah, I can."

Crowley turned his head to kiss the hand on his shoulder. "Then I can live with this."

"Good. 'Cause no way in hell was I going to help you kill yourself."

Crowley burst out laughing.

"I'd haul you up to bed but with this hangover I wouldn't be able to do it justice." He leaned forward to catch the demon's laughter in a hard kiss. Crowley's breath caught and he returned the kiss almost desperately.

After a moment Bobby leaned back. "Crisis over?"

"Yes. Yes, crisis over."

ooOoo

Castiel popped in at random times, catching glimpses of Bobby and Crowley's life together. He'd started out trying to catch Crowley doing something, well, demonic. Instead he found himself witness to things he never thought he'd ever see.

Crowley, he determined, really was blind and powerless, not even able to detect an angel standing next to him. Castiel watched as Crowley did things around the house without complaint and with what looked like contentment. Doing the laundry, cooking meals, changing bedding; doing all the things Bobby so often neglected. Often he'd put on an audio book as he worked and Castiel would sometimes get so caught up in the book he'd forget what he was there for.

Bobby stomped around, grumpy as ever but Castiel found him more than once watching the demon with a soft look in his eyes. He smiled more often, usually at the demon or at something the demon said. They talked about their day, about the hunts, about things Castiel imagined many couples discussed; things that would be boring to anyone else. He saw Bobby bring home bottles of wine, much to the demon's obvious delight and watched as Crowley painstakingly made Bobby's favorite meals.

Castiel hadn't intended to spy on them at night but curiosity dragged him there one evening. Standing well back in the shadows, he watched as they undressed, Bobby grumbling as he pulled off his boots, Crowley fussily folding his clothes on to a chair. Dressed only in boxers, the demon slipped under the covers, adjusting the pillows with a sigh. Bobby watched him with a soft smile and Castiel wondered if he'd be smiling like that if the demon could see it. He decided probably not.

Bobby slipped under the covers as well, rolling over to face the demon. Crowley was smiling slightly, humming softly. Bobby sighed then growled. "Horny little bastard."

"And you're not?"

Bobby laughed and leaned in to kiss the demon.

Castiel knew he should leave but he didn't. It didn't take long for Bobby to peel the demon's boxers off and even less time for Crowley to return the favor. They pressed close, hands working as they sighed and kissed and cried out their pleasure. Afterwards they held each other for a long moment before Bobby rose and returned with a washcloth to clean up. Climbing back into bed he took the demon in his arms, kissed his forehead almost chastely, and slipped into sleep. Crowley followed soon after.

He popped in at the oddest moments, trying to catch Crowley out but there were no calls to mysterious people of dubious temperament nor any attempts to contact anyone. Crowley was staying very low key; playing the stocks was the most dangerous thing he did these days. Much to his surprise, the demon seemed content with his human lover, his audio books, his life. Bobby seemed equally content doing his research and fixing cars and sharing his life with a demon. Despite the fact that he'd spent his entire life loving women, he seemed surprisingly happy with Crowley.

During one of his explorations through Bobby's house, Castiel was surprised to find a dog-eared copy of 'The Joys of Gay Sex' tucked away in the nightstand on Bobby's side of the bed. A part of him wondered how and where Bobby had gotten the book, another part was amazed that the hunter would have gotten it in the first place. Then one night ...

Castiel popped in, hiding himself in the shadows.

"Bobby, I," Crowley's voice was strangled.

"If you want me to stop just say so."

In the heat they had thrown off the covers and Castiel could see them both clearly. The demon was on his back, legs spread, Bobby kneeling between them. It took a moment for him to realize that Bobby had a lube-slicked finger inside the demon, his free hand stroking Crowley's cock gently.

"I ... no, don't stop. Just ... just keep talking to me. I need to know that it's you and not ..."

Bobby obliged, murmuring soft words as he worked the finger deeper into the demon. He must have touched something because Crowley's back arched off the bed.

"There! There, Bobby. Yes!"

With a smile the hunter lowered his head, engulfing the demon's cock in his mouth, his finger stroking that spot until Crowley came, crying out his lover's name. Swallowing cum, Bobby stroked himself to completion as well, his own cries muffled by the demon's cock. Finished he made his way up Crowley's body to kiss him.

"I won't ever do anything you don't want." Bobby said softly.

"I know. I know." Crowley shivered. "I never thought," he paused, swallowing hard. "I never thought I'd ever enjoy this again. After what happened ... I'd been there before, you know. When I was first dragged into Hell. But that was in Hell, by demons. And so long ago."

Bobby tightened his arm around Crowley. "Don't think about it," he growled. "Ain't happening again."

Crowley made a sound deep in his throat. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

"I aim to keep this one." The determination in the hunter's voice seem to give the demon pause and Castiel slipped away, baffled by a demon's and a hunter's trust in each other.

Castiel found out that Bobby was keeping a secret, one he wasn't sure about. He stumbled on it one day when he popped in, finally finding the couple in the library. Bobby was looking over something he had hand-written, scowling and making changes. Castiel had read it over the hunter's shoulder, frowning at the implications of what he was writing and uncertain as to what to do about it, if anything. Bobby had finally sighed, folding it up and putting it away before looking over at a giggling Crowley.

"Damn it, Crowley! Lovecraft is not comedy!"

Crowley tilted his head in a manner that Castiel refused to find endearing and widened his eyes innocently. "Depends on your point of view," he said reasonably.

Bobby sighed, rubbing at his eyes.

Castiel reported back to Dean what he saw, though he omitted any mention of the document Bobby was working on, and what he thought but Dean only scowled darkly and muttered about Crowley being up to something. He sulked, ignoring the angel's suggestions that he talk with Bobby.

The next time he popped in he almost did something drastic before he realized that Crowley was trying to help Bobby, not hurt him. But hurt him he did because it was the only way to save his life.

"You could go to a doctor!" Crowley sounded desperate as he ran his hands lightly over the other's back, flinching every now and then. The hunter was shirtless, revealing a bloody hole in his shoulder. Castiel could feel the evil emanating from the wound and his stomach crawled.

"And tell them what? I got stabbed by some thing and by the way, whatever's in the wound is evil so be careful?" Bobby was sitting backwards on a kitchen chair, one hand gripping the back of the chair. "'Sides there ain't enough time."

"Better to have a blind demon dig it out?" Crowley took a deep breath. "Call Dean. Have him come out ..."

"Damn it, Crowley! Just wash off the holy water and use the gloves! It ain't in there too deep! I just can't reach it myself."

Crowley took another deep breath and moved to stand behind Bobby. He reached for a basin of water, scooping out a towel and using it to wash away blood and the holy water Bobby had poured over it in an attempt to negate the evil in the metal. He took the gloves Bobby offered him but hesitated before letting them drop. Castiel could understand why. Wearing the gloves would hinder his attempts to find the sliver but doing it bare-handed would expose the demon to what holy water remained behind despite his attempts to wipe it all away.

Crowley didn't seem to care.

Pausing only to pour antiseptic over his hands, Crowley felt for the wound. Castiel saw the demon's flesh begin to burn at the contact with holy water and Crowley gritted his teeth as he probed the wound. Breath hissed between his teeth and his face twisted with the pain but he didn't make a sound.

Despite being caught up in his own pain Bobby's nose twitched and he swore at the stench of burning skin. "Crowley!"

Crowley's free hand tightened on Bobby's uninjured shoulder. "Stay still! I almost have it!" His fingers probed then gripped the piece of metal. He yanked it out, letting it drop on the floor as he groped for the towel. Finding it, he pressed it to the wound. "Grab it! Hold it!" Once he was sure Bobby had the towel, the demon stumbled for the sink, flipping on the water and thrusting his hands under the flow. He hunched over, his face twisted with pain.

Castiel ghosted over, frowning at the burns. The ones on his right hand were deep and obviously painful. He looked toward Bobby, whose worried eyes were locked on Crowley. He hesitated, looking from one to the other. Bobby hadn't seen the wounds and Crowley couldn't, though he could feel the pain from them. So neither knew how bad the burns were.

And Crowley couldn't heal himself.

Reaching out to hold a hand over the demon's, Castiel extended his grace to heal the burns. Not completely but enough. He left only enough damage to show he had been burned by the holy water.

Crowley gasped as the pain eased. He groped for the soap, washing his hands repeatedly to remove any trace of holy water then shut the water off. For a moment he leaned there, panting.

"Well?" Bobby demanded. "Get over here, you damn idjit and let me take a look!"

Crowley started to giggle. "You get a fucking knife in your back and you want to check my hands? How incredibly fucked up is that?"

Bobby's scowl deepened. "Get over here!"

Crowley straightened, walking over to show him his hands. Bobby took the right hand, frowning. "Not too bad. Think you can finish up?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I can." Crowley hesitated. "I still think ..."

"Just do it. It'll be fine. Now that that," he looked at the piece of metal on the floor. "Is out of me it'll be fine."

Crowley nodded and reached for the medical supplies Bobby offered him.

Once Bobby was patched up as best the demon could manage the hunter directed him to pick up the metal sliver and put it in a safe place until he could dispose of it. Crowley helped him upstairs and into bed, still fussing over the hunter, made even more grumpy by the pain in his back.

Castiel left soon after.

ooOoo

A few days later Crowley was in the kitchen, carefully straining the soup. Not an easy thing to do when one couldn't see but he managed remarkably well. He was reaching for a soup mug when the door crashed open. The demon let out an undignified squeak and jumped, just barely stopping himself from grabbing the hot stove.

"Who's there?" He turned toward the door, heart thumping. "Who's there?" His voice rose when there was no answer. He thought he heard the murmur of a woman's voice then Dean's voice cut harshly across hers.

"Where's Bobby?"

"Winchester." Crowley flatly refused to admit he sagged with relief. "Can't you ever come into this house without scaring the hell out of me?" he snarled, turning back to the soup. He was sure his hands were shaking as he reached for the mug. He was just thankful he hadn't been holding it when Dean came crashing through the door or he'd surely would have dropped it.

"You don't tell me where Bobby is and I'm going to do more than scare you!" Dean barked out and Crowley sighed.

"He's up in bed. He got injured during his last hunt and ..."

"You didn't think to call anyone?" Dean stomped over to tower over him.

Crowley's shoulders hunched at the man's closeness. "I couldn't! Bobby turned off and hid the damn phones! Did something to the CB and the computer as well. It's not like I could fix them!" He gripped the mug tightly, a part of him waiting for a blow.

"Why would he do that?" It was obvious Dean didn't believe him and Crowley's lips thinned.

"Ask him!"

For a moment Dean just stood there, breathing hard then he stomped from the room. Crowley waited until he heard heavy steps going up the stairs before relaxing. Reaching for a ladle he began to carefully fill the mug, pausing when he realized there was someone still in the kitchen. "Who's there?" he said sharply, half-turning to face the door.

A throat cleared. "Lisa. Dean's wife."

"Oh. Right." Bobby said Dean had married. He suppressed the urge to make a snide remark and moved to set the mug on the tray. Walking over to the refrigerator he pulled out a pitcher of orange juice and poured a glass, setting that on the tray as well. Making sure the napkin, crackers, and spoon was on the tray, he picked it up and turned.

"Uhm, need a hand?" The woman's voice was tentative and Crowley almost snapped at her but managed to swallow it down.

"No. I have it." He walked from the room, aware of Lisa following him. Shifting the tray so it was balanced on one arm, he reached for the railing. "Why are you here anyway?"

"Dean couldn't reach Bobby. He got worried."

"Why was he trying to get hold of Bobby?" Crowley's voice was dry. He wasn't surprised when she didn't answer.

Reaching the top of the stairs he shifted the tray so he was carrying it with two hands and started for the master bedroom. At the sound of raised voices he paused, lips thinning.

"If Crowley had called you, you'd have done something! Like force him to leave." Bobby growled. "That ain't happening! So yeah! I hid the phones!"

"Sure that was your idea?"

"Crowley's the one who wanted to call you. Not me."

Crowley tightened his jaw and walked into the room. "Lunch, luv," he said pleasantly. "Beef broth and orange juice." He started around the bed.

"Hold up, Crowley," Bobby growled and the demon stopped dead, surprised. "That's my lunch, Dean, and I don't want it all over the room so how about you get your ass out of the way! And don't try tripping him up."

Crowley frowned and waited for the sound of Dean moving before continuing to Bobby's side of the bed. Carefully, with Bobby's help, he sat the tray down across Bobby's lap.

"There you are." Crowley reached out to touch the man's neck. Bobby grumbled but didn't protest as the demon leaned in to press his lips to the man's forehead.

Dean gagged. "You mind?" He didn't bother to hide the disgust in his voice but before he could say more, Lisa cut him off sharply.

"Dean!"

"What?" He looked at her. "We don't need ..."

"Sorry to offend your homophobic sensibilities, Winchester." Crowley straightened, his voice acid. "But that's the only way I can judge whether or not Bobby has a fever. Can't exactly read a thermometer now, can I? Next time you're in town, luv, pick up one of those talking thermometers. If you don't then once I'm on the computer again I will order one and it won't be one that goes in your mouth."

"Shut up, Dean." Bobby growled just as the younger man opened his mouth. "That ain't much of an incentive to let you back on the computer."

"I'll pick one up and bring it over," Lisa said sharply, glaring at Dean, who gave her a 'what-the-fuck?' face.

Crowley looked startled at the offer then thoughtful. "That would be appreciated."

Bobby grunted as he cradled the soup mug in his hands. "We're really gonna have to work on gratitude and how to express it."

"I manage!" Crowley protested as he checked the water level in the pitcher next to the bed. "I mean, demon here. We don't exactly express it well. I'll bring up some fresh water."

"Do that," Dean snapped. "Take your time. We gotta talk."

Crowley's lips thinned and Bobby glared at Dean. "Go on," he said in a gentle voice. "You should get some rest. You look like I feel."

"Lovely. I'll be back up in a bit." Carrying the pitcher, he made his way around the bed and out the door, Lisa stepping out of his way.

"Demons don't need to sleep," Dean pointed out.

Lisa frowned at him. "He does look exhausted."

"Yeah well." Bobby took a sip of broth. "He's been up since I got home, running himself ragged."

Dean rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath but Bobby ignored him. He locked eyes on the young woman. "Dean's right about one thing. Normally a demon don't need to sleep. But Crowley's powerless. He can't use them to rejuvenate hisself or even heal hisself. In case you haven't noticed." He shot a look at Dean. "So he does need to sleep. And eat."

"What happened?" Lisa asked. "I mean?" She gestured at Bobby.

"Ah, hell. Didn't duck fast enough on a hunt. Got stabbed." He jerked his thumb at his right shoulder, wincing as the gesture pulled at his wound. "Not too deep but it left behind a piece of the blade. Cursed damn it! Crowley pulled it out. With his bare hand." He shot a glare at Dean. "Got burned from the holy water I poured on it. Anyway," he turned back to Lisa. "Guess it got infected. Was running a hell of a fever for a couple days. Just broke yesterday." He finished the soup and reached for the orange juice.

"Is that where that bruise came from?"

"Bruise? What bruise?" Dean, who'd been leaning against the dresser, straightened, looking at Bobby anxiously.

Both Bobby and Lise rolled their eyes.

"Crowley has a bruise on the side of his face," Lisa explained dryly. "I guess I'm not surprised you didn't notice it."

"Guess I was delirious," Bobby muttered, shame-faced. "That ain't the only one he got." He finished the orange juice and set the empty glass on the tray. Before he could move the tray to one side, Lisa was there.

"Here. I'll take that down. Want me to bring back some more both?"

Bobby shot her a startled look that quickly turned thoughtful. "Yeah sure. Thanks."


	3. Chapter 3

Lisa carried the tray into the kitchen and set it on counter. She looked around, surprised at how clean everything was. The last time she'd been out here, the house could have best be described as lived-in. The kind of place where a bachelor lived.

Wondering where Crowley went, she started to look around then hesitated. Crowley was blind and apt to startle easily. After a moment's thought, she finally called out his name.

He didn't answer right away and she suspected he was surprised to hear her calling him.

"In here. The utility room."

Lisa followed the voice, pausing in the doorway at the sight of Crowley pouring detergent into the washer. He closed the top and she saw that everything had been painstakingly labeled in Braille. Running his fingers lightly over the labels, he made some adjustments and started the machine.

"I'm impressed." Lisa said and she was. It was obvious care was given to make the house suitable for someone who couldn't see. Everything had a place and that place was neatly labeled.

"Yes, well. Couldn't just sit around all day, moping. No matter what Winchester may think." Crowley's voice was cool.

Lisa's lips thinned. She realized the demon had misunderstood what she was saying but even so. She watched as he put everything away.

"Can I help you with something?" he asked, turning those unnerving eyes toward her.

"Oh. I thought I could take some more broth up to Bobby."

"Well. That would be a help. I'd prefer to stay away from Winchester and that demon-killing knife of his."

Lisa stiffened. "How?"

"Oh please. I'm not stupid. If he's coming to a house where a demon is he's going to bring the knife. Could you let him know if he's planning on killing me to kindly not do so in Bobby's bedroom? Might upset him a bit."'

Crowley walked toward her and she hastily stepped back, flushing when she realizing he was just walking from the room.

"Mind taking the water up as well?"

"Yeah, sure." She followed him into the kitchen. "Let me rinse out the mug." She hurried over to pick up the mug and take it to the sink but the sound of an unfamiliar man's voice made her gasp and jump. She whirled then collapsed in a fit of giggles. "A talking measuring cup?"

Crowley threw her a wry grin. "It's amazing the things they've come up with. Did you know there's a talking microwave?"

Lisa glanced toward the microwave.

"We don't have one yet. I think Bobby's looking at one. Do you want to take the broth up now or wait? So they can talk."

Lisa grimaced. "Wait, I think."

"Well there's orange juice and lemonade in the refrigerator. Help yourself." Crowley opened a cupboard and pulled out storage containers. He began to carefully fill them, pouring into the measuring cup first and then into the containers.

After a moment's dithering, Lisa poured a glass of lemonade. She hesitated. "Would you like a glass of lemonade?"

Crowley looked surprised. "Yes please," he finally said. Wiping his hands on a towel, he put the containers away then made his way to the table.

"The glass is in front of you." Lisa set it on the table and moved to sit across from him. Absently she sipped her drink as she studied him. "What happened to you? To your eyes?"

"Winchester didn't tell you?"

An annoyed look crossed her face. "He has a first name."

Crowley's lips quirked into a smile. "I doubt he'd want me using it."

Lisa's annoyance fled and she sighed. "That's true."

Crowley surprised her by laughing, laughter that quickly fled as he remembered her question. "Holy water. My captors poured it into my eyes pretty much every day or whenever they felt like it. The damage remains." His voice was wooden.

Lisa studied those pale eyes. Unlike Dean, she believed he really was blind. No one could possibly pretend to be blind for so long. "Will they heal?"

"No idea. Perhaps. But how long it will take? That I can't even guess at." He took a cautious sip of lemonade and Lisa wondered if he thought she might have put something in it. She had to give him credit for actually drinking it.

She frowned and glanced up toward the bedroom, wondering how much time she should give them. Dean thought that enough talking with Bobby would bring the older man around but Lisa thought it would just make him more stubborn. Thanks to her exposure to Dean she knew about demons. Well, she knew what Dean knew about demons, enough to be wary of even this harmless-looking man with his unseeing eyes and smarmy manner. She thought over what Dean had told her.

"You're the King of the Crossroads Demons," She started suddenly.

"Was the King of the Crossroads." Crowley corrected. "I lost all that helping your husband and his brother shove Lucifer back into his box. Managed to become Hell's most wanted in the process. Or didn't he mention that?"

Lisa bit her lip. Dean had been selective in what he'd said about the demon. At points he'd grudgingly admit the demon had helped out but always made it clear how little that help was appreciated, despite admitting they wouldn't have been able to accomplish some things without it.

"I suppose it would take a lot to reach that rank," Lisa said slowly, watching the demon.

Crowley chuckled. "You mean a lot of evil? Not necessarily." He turned the empty glass in his hands before pushing it toward her. "Would you mind?" As Lisa rose he continued talking. "You are wondering what it would take to reach the rank I did. Well, I'll tell you. It takes the overwhelming urge to survive without being the abused plaything of creatures you cannot even begin to imagine." He paused, reaching up to touch a puckered scar. "Or maybe you can. There are times when humans are very capable of outstripping even a demon's imagination." Letting his hand drop, he continued. "In Hell there's only two options. Abuse or be abused. Even the strongest person will eventually break and become an abuser. Even Dean eventually ..."

"What?" Lisa set the pitcher down on the table hard enough to make lemonade slosh out of it.

Crowley frowned. "I take it he didn't tell you about his time in Hell. Well, toward the end of it he was torturing souls with the best of them."

"I don't believe you!" Lisa took a step back, glaring at the demon, reflecting that Dean was right. They are all liars.

Crowley shrugged, obviously not caring whether she believed him or not. "Why would I lie when the truth is so much better? Ask him yourself, you don't believe me." He gestured upstairs.

"I will!" She whirled and ran for the stairs.

She burst into the bedroom to see the two men glaring at each other. Bobby had a sheen of sweat on his forehead but that didn't stop him from calling the younger man several choice names before glaring at her.

"What?"

"Something Crowley said ..." Her voice trailed off as she realized how her question might sound.

"Don't listen to ..." Dean started but Bobby cut him off.

"What'd he say?"

"He said," she glanced at Dean. "That you'd been to Hell."

Dean went totally still and her heart sank.

"What about it?" Bobby growled. "Did you think he was lying? Surprise. He ain't."

Dean glared at the older man. "That's not important," he muttered.

"So he wasn't lying," Lisa said slowly. "And I need to go apologize to him. Excuse me please."

"No need." Crowley's voice came from behind her and she jumped with an undignified 'eeep!'. Turning she glared at him, aware of Bobby's snickers. Crowley smirked in her direction.

"You did that on purpose!"

"Maybe. You mind?" He held out the full tray. "I have to get the laundry into the dryer."

"Sure." She hastily took the tray and Crowley stepped back and went out the door. "Okay, don't need to apologize." She looked at Dean. "And you have some explaining to do." She walked around the bed to set the pitcher on the nightstand and hand Bobby the mug of broth. "Is there anything you guys need from the store?"

"Lisa!"

"No thanks," Bobby grunted, looking vaguely embarrassed. "Did the monthly shopping a few days before I got hurt.'

Lisa looked at him for a long moment before grinning wickedly. "What do they think of you two in town?"

Bobby scowled, a slight flush rising in his cheeks and it was all she could do not to collapse into giggles.

"They know!"

"They suspect," Bobby growled, all gruff anger and embarrassment, shooting the gawking Dean a sharp look before wiggling down in the bed, muttering. "They think we're cute."

That did it. Lisa collapsed into laughter, ignoring the two men glaring at her, though for different reasons.

"If you go into town, Crowley's known as Jaime Yates. Officially he's my distant cousin come over from England after being blinded in an accident," Bobby said suddenly.

"Unofficially?" Lisa looked at him teasingly, grinning as his flush deepened.

"He's my distant cousin come over from England who's ended up in my bed," Bobby admitted.

Dean made a sound between a gag and a growl and stomped from the room, leaving the other two looking after him.

"You do know," Lisa said suddenly. "That the fact Crowley's a demon is only an excuse. If he wasn't ..."

"Yeah, yeah. If he was just Jaime Yates Dean would still have the problem. A bigger one really 'cause then he'd have to admit that I'm gay. Or rather bi." Bobby frowned. "Funny how I can talk to him about sleeping with a demon but every time I bring up the male part of it he doesn't want to listen." He turned to look at her thoughtfully. "Look, you mind doing me a favor?"

ooOoo

Dean stomped down the stairs, tempted to walk out the door and get Ruby's blade. Lisa had insisted he leave it in the car and he had reluctantly agreed. If he'd just killed Crowley when they got here ...

Bobby would have probably shot him. He cursed whatever it was the demon had done to him and glared around, wondering where the little bastard was. After a moment he blinked and looked again.

Because the house was clean.

Remarkably so, considering that a perpetual slob and a blind demon lived here. If he really was blind, Dean corrected himself and looked again. Now he could see missed spots while dusting and some things just not looking right, the kind of things someone who was blind would miss while cleaning. The floor, however, was spotless, everything carefully put away. He walked over to the kitchen and peered in suspiciously. Crowley was nowhere in sight. Just as he was beginning to panic the demon appeared, walking in so confidently that Dean was sure he could see but then Crowley reached the table. He cursed as his leg smacked into a chair pulled out from the table. Reaching out to steady himself with a hand on the table, he cursed again as he put his hand in sticky wetness.

"Damn." Crowley walked over to the counter, pulling open a drawer and taking out some towels. He made his way back, whistling tunelessly as he mopped up the spilled lemonade. His hand hit the pitcher and he sighed as it sloshed. Carefully he checked for more spills before getting a wet washcloth and wiping both pitcher and table free of stickiness. Picking up the pitcher, he put it away and disappeared with the dirty towels.

Dean stared after him before turning and walking to Bobby's library. It, too, was startling clean. There were no stacks of books on the floor, though there were plenty on a table against the wall. He walked over to turn on the computer. Nothing happened and he frowned, remembering that Crowley had said something about Bobby disabling it. He looked around, finally realizing that the power cord was gone. Dean snorted, reflecting that that was a simple low-tech way of keeping Crowley from using it. The same went for the CB.

Straightening, he looked over the setup. There were two keyboards, a regular one and a braille one and two printers as well. Sheets of paper stacked neatly in the corner had raised bumps on them and he realized one of the printers printed out in braille. There were a couple pieces of equipment around he didn't recognize and he guessed that they had something to do with Crowley. He wondered briefly how Bobby could afford all of this new equipment.

He turned to the stacks of books, his frown deepening when he realized that one stack had to do with braille and how to live with the blind. Another stack was of fiction books and not the kind he'd ever seen Bobby read. He was reaching for the top book in a third stack when he heard voices in the other room. He hurried out in time to see Lisa handing Crowley a phone.

Crowley smiled as he ran his hands over the phone. After a moment of satisfying himself that it was his phone and it was working properly, he slipped it into his pocket. "The computer?"

Lisa raised a handful of cords and shook them. "We'll make sure everything's set up before we leave." She hesitated before suggesting gently. "You should go up and rest."

Crowley blinked, hesitating. "I think ... I think I will. Just close up please." He bit his lip. "And, uhmmmm, thank you." He walked for the stairs and Dean moved hastily to one side. At the sound, Crowley paused, frowning then continued to the stairs and walked up them.

Lisa watched him go up before waving the cords at Dean. "Let's get everything working again and head out."

"Yeah." Dean took the cords. "Sure."

ooOoo

Crowley paused in the doorway, head tilted as he listened to his lover breathe.

"Just gonna stand there, looking pretty?" Bobby growled and Crowley smiled.

"Is that how I'm looking?"

"Actually you look exhausted. Get your butt over here."

Crowley obeyed, walking over to sit on the side of the bed to take off his shoes before stretching out next to Bobby. "Damn," he muttered. "I forgot to ask Mrs. Winchester where that stuff was hidden." Absently he took the phone from his pocket and put it on the nightstand behind him.

"She wouldn't have told you. Made sure of that." Bobby reached out to touch the demon's head, coaxing him close. With a sigh Crowley rolled over, resting his head on the other man's shoulder. Bobby watched as Crowley's eyes slowly closed and he slipped into sleep, perhaps his first real sleep in days.

Bobby looked down at the demon, his expression soft as he stroked the short dark hair. He knew Dean still distrusted Crowley and he could understand why but Dean hadn't seen Crowley over the past few days. His anger and naked fear when he realized what Bobby had done and why, cutting him off from any hope of getting help for the wounded hunter, his relief when Bobby's fever had finally broken. All of which he tried to hide from Bobby but even so he could see it and feel it too, in the tight possessive grip and gentle touches.

Shifting, he rested his cheek on the demon's head, slipping into sleep.

ooOoo

"You'd be surprised what you can do without using salt." Crowley opened a cupboard and pulled out a container. "Here."

Curious, Lisa examined the jar. "The label's in Braille," she pointed out.

"Of course." Crowley smirked then rattled off the ingredients. "You need to get creative when you can't use salt."

"De ... I didn't think demons needed to eat."

"Normally we don't but whatever was done to me has altered me, I guess. I need to eat and sleep and ... other things."

Lisa paused with a frown then decided not to ask. "So no salt in the house?"

"Sure there is. Bobby has it stored away where I can't accidentally use it. It still affects me as it once did." He held out a hand and she saw a scar along the back of it that looked oddly different from the others. "A little test." He let his hand drop and turned back to the stew. "I've no powers. I can't heal myself but I'm still vulnerable to the things that will hurt a demon."

Lisa brought over the vegetables she had cut up and waited for Crowley to be ready for them. "So you haven't found out why?"

"Bobby's been searching but no. He hasn't found a thing." He gestured for her to pour the vegetables in. "Someone found something new somewhere. Something capable of binding a demon and making him powerless." There was surprisingly little self-pity in the demon's voice as he stirred the stew.

Lisa reached for an apple from a bowl on the counter and studied the demon as she took a bite. "You're handling this surprisingly well," she said at last. "Being blind and powerless."

Crowley snorted. "Don't have much choice, do I? Honestly though, it could be so much worse. If anyone else had found me ..." His voice trailed off.

Lisa remembered some of what Bobby had told them about the demon's injuries and shuddered. She knew he'd glossed over the details but what little he had said had been horrific enough. She resisted the impulse to comfort him, knowing he didn't care to be touched except, of course, by Bobby. "Care for a refill?" She reached out to tap his empty wine glass.

"Sure."

Lisa picked up the wine bottle and poured a measure into Crowley's glass and then her own. She had learned a lot of the demon's quirks over the past few weeks, one of which is that any glass he was drinking from was to be kept in the same spot and if you pick up anything in the kitchen, actually in the entire house, you put it down in the exact same spot. Crowley, she found, had an exceptional memory and he knew where everything was and if something wasn't where it was supposed to be he let everyone know about it. Not that she could blame him, really.

"You want to peel the apples? Thought I'd make a pie."

"Hmmm. That will make Dean happy." Lisa grabbed the bowl of apples and a knife, heading for the table. "I'm moving the trash can over to the table."

"I was thinking more of Bobby," Crowley said dryly. "He loves apple pie so I thought I'd give it a try. Remind me, though, to put the biscuits in."

"Right." Lisa grabbed an apple and started to peel.

ooOoo

"You could bring Ben out, y'know. He'd be perfectly safe." Bobby half-growled, not looking up from under the hood of the car they were working on.

Dean grimaced. "Yeah, maybe," he said grudgingly. "Maybe later."

Bobby grunted, apparently satisfied.

Dean dropped by more often with the obvious intent of catching Crowley out but soon even he had to reluctantly agree that the demon really was blind. Lisa came with him, driven first by curiosity and then by a growing friendship with the demon.

"Crowley's making stew. Think you'll stay for supper?"

Dean bit his lip, hesitant. Visiting was one thing but actually eating food prepared by a demon?

"He said something about making an apple pie," Bobby continued, shooting the younger man a sly look.

Dean scowled. "That's cheating," he muttered, only half in jest.

Bobby snickered. "Not sure how good it'll be, since he hasn't made a pie since he was blinded. But everything else he's made has been good."

Dean made a noncommittal sound and they worked in silence for a long moment.

"Hey, Bobby," Dean said at last, not looking at the other man. "How, ahhhh, real is this?" He made a vague gesture toward the house.

Bobby looked at him, narrow-eyed but he saw that Dean was being earnest. "Define real," he growled then shook his head with a sigh. "He didn't trick me into anything, if that's what you mean. Him and me ..." He hesitated.

"Demons don't feel, Bobby. Whatever's between the two of you ..."

"You ain't seen him, boy." This time the growl was real. "Not when he's hurting. Not when he's in a nightmare." Pushing himself away from the car he turned and leaned back against it, crossing his arms. "Sometimes he'll hear something or smell something and it sets him off. Sends him back to that room and those people and what they did to him. He practically goes catatonic. I'll find him curled up in some corner, afraid to move or talk. First few times it took me days to get him calmed down and talking again. Now I can do it in a few hours but those few hours," he shook his head. "Not something I enjoy." He looked over at Dean. "He ain't just a demon any more. He'll say different but ... I don't know. He ain't like any demon I'd ever seen or heard of."

"We thought the same about Ruby," Dean pointed out.

"Ruby wasn't blind," Bobby said bluntly. "Or powerless. And," he paused. "And I got some suspicions I don't wanna discuss right now."

Dean studied him then glanced at the house thoughtfully.

"There's some other things I ain't gonna talk about so don't ask."

Dean flushed and ducked his head back under the hood, leaving Bobby smirking at the back of his head.

ooOoo

Dean looked at the bowl of thick stew to cast a longing look at the pie cooling on the counter. While they had been to the salvage yard several times they hadn't stayed to eat. The bribe of pie, even pie made by a demon, was something he couldn't resist. The stew, on the other hand ...

"This is excellent," Lisa said. "Where did you learn how to cook anyway?"

Crowley shrugged. "Something to do. I rather enjoy it." He hesitated. "I've found it's even better when I am cooking for others." There was a trace of wonder in his voice, as if he couldn't believe it.

"Never cook for the folks back in Hell?" Dean asked then winced at the glare Bobby gave him. He couldn't see Lisa but he suspected she was glaring at him as well.

Crowley's face shut down. "No," he said woodenly. "There was no one there I would have wished to cook for."

Dean swallowed another snide remark and stared into the bowl. He knew he wasn't handling this well but there was so much wrong with all that was happening. A demon living with a hunter ... he looked up again, watching as the two interacted. Bobby had set everything precisely on the table and when Dean had taken a biscuit and set the basket back in a slightly different place, the older man had promptly moved it to its original location. Crowley reached for things unerringly, obviously trusting Bobby to have put them in their customary location. Dean looked from one to the other, absently taking apart a biscuit.

"Bobby," he said suddenly then almost shut up when the older man stiffened. Dean glanced at Crowley, still blank-faced. "Are you happy?" he blurted out before he lost his nerve.

Bobby looked surprised at the question then something like grudging respect entered his eyes. He turned his head to look at Crowley, who had lowered his spoon and was listening, head tipped toward him.

"Yeah," he said finally, watching as tension drained from the demon's body. "Yeah, I am." He shot Dean a sharp look. "As hard as that may be to believe."

Dean studied him for a long moment before looking at Crowley. "And you, Crowley?"

Crowley looked startled at the question and for a moment Dean didn't think he'd answer. The demon opened his mouth then paused. His hand groped over to touch Bobby, settling on his wrist gently. He tipped his head, blind eyes turned toward the younger hunter. "Yes. Yes, I am happy." The wonder was back in his voice, as if he couldn't believe he was happy. Or maybe he couldn't believe he was admitting it.

Dean flicked a look at Bobby before taking a deep breath but before he could speak, Crowley continued.

"I know what you are thinking. You've been to Hell. You know how it works. It's all kill or be killed, no quarter given. There is no kindness." He paused with a frown. "I don't believe I've ever been shown kindness. Not without an ulterior motive."

Dean took another deep breath. "Not even when you were still human?"

Crowley froze and Bobby hissed through his teeth, glaring at Dean. After a moment, Crowley relaxed and squeezed the hunter's wrist.

"It's all right, Bobby." He tipped his head in Dean's direction. "It was so long ago I barely remember. Except, sometimes, in dreams. Or nightmares." He shook his head. "I can't talk of it but yes. I knew kindness then. I knew many things then. But once in Hell ... you knew Hell, Winchester. It was use or be used. After my time in the torture chamber - long, longer then even you could ever imagine - I was determined never to used again." His face hardened. "I became what I needed to be in order to keep that from ever happening again. And make no mistake about it. I was good at it. And, yes, I was proud of my work and yes, I came to enjoy it. It grew to be all I knew."

Dean realized that the demon was talking in the past tense and he frowned. "But you're still a demon," he said bluntly. "If you get your powers back, what happens then?"

Crowley was obviously expecting the question. "I don't know," he said honestly. "I really don't. Of course, we don't even know if I'll ever get my powers back. Or my sight."

"One day at a time," Bobby grunted.

"But you could go back to what you were," Dean persisted. "And then what?' He glanced at Bobby. "Who gets hurt then?"

"I don't know!" Crowley snapped, obviously frustrated. "I can't know! Don't you understand? Nothing like this has ever happened before!" He took a deep shaky breath. "There are no disabled demons. If they can't heal themselves or convince someone else to do it ... yeah like that would happen ... they die. Or become toys for stronger demons, though that's rare. A blind demon would be useless, except perhaps for amusement. Of course Lucifer's more devoted followers would love to get their hands on me now." He fell silent at the thought.

Dean did as well. He looked down at the bowl, stirring the contents. Reaching for another biscuit, he tore it in half, dunking half into the stew. "Shouldn't other demons be able to find you?"

Crowley grimaced. "Whatever was done to me seems to block others from sensing me. Only good thing coming from that. Plus the protections Bobby has set up around the place. As long as no one tells anyone where I am we're safe."

Dean shot a look at him. "Hope you're not suggesting ..."

"He is," Bobby said through a mouthful of biscuit. "But then he's a paranoid little bastard."

"With reason," Crowley pointed out. "And what do you mean little?"

Dean snickered at that and Crowley turned toward him.

"You don't count, you freakishly tall bastard."

Dean finally shoved the stew-laden biscuit in his mouth. "Midget," he muttered around the food.

Crowley blinked, obviously at a loss at how to respond to that and Bobby laughed.

"Don't worry. I ain't gonna do a thing that'll endanger Bobby. Or make him unhappy," Dean muttered the last bit, eyes glued on his bowl. After a moment he began to eat.

"Good. 'Cause I'd have to shoot you."

"Yeah, I figured."

Crowley turned his head from one man to the other, obviously uncertain. Lisa sighed and absently patted his hand, pleased that he didn't flinched at her touch, only turned toward her inquiringly.

"I think everything's fine," she said soothingly.

Crowley nodded uncertainly and Bobby chortled at him.

"Want some more stew?" The hunter asked.

Crowley ran the half-a-biscuit he still held around the bowl, soaking up the remains of the stew then held the empty bowl out. "Yes please."

Bobby rose, his bowl in one hand, Crowley's in the other and walked over to fill them.

"There's more biscuits warming in the oven," Crowley said and Bobby grunted, walking over to pull them out.

Dean began to laugh.

Bobby turned to scowl at him. "What's wrong with you?"

"You two sound like an old married couple," he snickered.

Bobby's scowl deepened then he laughed at the look on Crowley's face.

ooOoo

Meal over and pie eaten, Bobby walked the couple out to their car, chatting for a few minutes before heading back into the house. He was pleased with today's visit. Dean seemed to finally be accepting Crowley and Bobby's friendship, if not relationship. Granted some of his taunts were still barbed but there had been some honest teasing mixed in. So just maybe ...

He paused in the doorway into the kitchen, leaning against the doorjamb. The demon was putting away the food and cleaning up after the meal and Bobby just watched him, wondering at the direction his life had taken since Crowley had first appeared on his porch. He had gone from reluctant caretaker to tentative lover to partner and somewhere down that road he had fallen in love.

It had taken him some time to admit it to himself. It wasn't the passionate, love-at-first-sight love he'd held and still held for Karen. He would always love her but he was accepting the fact that he could love another. Even if it was a man. Even if it was a demon. What he felt for Crowley wasn't the bright flame he shared with his wife. This was comfortable like a familiar quilt, something that warmed him with its presence.

He watched as Crowley stretched up to return containers to the cupboard, his shirt riding up enough for the hunter to see a sliver of skin between shirt and waistband. His breath caught and he licked his lips. Damn! He never thought the sight of a man could arouse him so. No, not just any man. Just Crowley.

Pushing himself from the doorjamb, he walked over to stand behind Crowley. At the sound of his footsteps, the demon tilted his head, waiting. Reaching out Bobby rested his hands on his shoulders, gently massaging the muscles there. Crowley sighed, rolling his neck.

"Everything put away?" Bobby murmured, leaning in to press his lips against the back of Crowley's neck.

Crowley's breath caught. "Yes."

"Good. Come on." The hunter entwined his fingers with Crowley's and tugged him from the room and up to the bedroom.

Crowley was humming happily as they undressed each other, hands caressing newly bared skin. Bobby drew him to the bed and they lay together, kissing and stroking each other. Crowley's hand closed around his lover's cock, stroking him as Bobby's hand slipped between the demon's legs to cup his balls, rolling them in his hand.

Crowley groaned and shifted, parting his legs to give Bobby better access to the sensitive skin between balls and anus. Bobby chuckled and sucked briefly on the demon's lower lip.

"Crowley," he murmured. "There's something I want."

Crowley stiffened slightly and Bobby guessed at what he was thinking. He gave the other a gentle squeeze.

"I want you to fuck me," he said bluntly.

"Wha - what?"

"You heard me."

Crowley's expression went from surprised to thoughtful. "You don't have to, Bobby." Crowley stroked his lover's hip. Despite his words, he felt his cock twitch in anticipation.

"I know I don't have to, you dumb idjit!" Bobby growled. "I wanna." He frowned. "Wouldn't ask you to do anything I haven't done."

Crowley tipped his head thoughtfully. "And you are curious." he guessed.

Bobby squirmed a bit. "Maybe." he muttered. "Jes a little." He scowled at Crowley's smirk.

Crowley leaned in to kiss Bobby's forehead. "If you want to stop just say so."

"Don't worry, I will. Here." He pressed the tube of lubricant into the demon's hand.

Bobby watched as Crowley slicked up his fingers. He wasn't sure what to expect and was a little afraid of it but he knew sooner or later, Crowley was going to ask him to fuck him and he needed to know what that felt like before subjecting him to it. And, well, he was curious.

He felt Crowley's fingers drift down between his legs, caressing his balls before finding the puckered opening into his body. He swallowed hard as a finger rubbed lube onto his opening and then slipped inside just a bit.

"So tense." Crowley whispered. "I won't hurt you, Bobby."

"I know." He did know that and that knowledge helped him relax.

"Here." Crowley groped for a pillow. "Slip this under your hips. Make it easier."

Bobby obeyed and Crowley resumed loosening the tight opening.

Crowley worked a finger into the hunter, biting his lip at the tightness. He could feel his cock leaking, preparing to, in essence, deflower the man. A part of him just wanted to take him, tear him open, possess him and once he would have. It was almost alarming how easy it was to wrestle down those demonic urges.

He drew out his finger, pleased to hear a disappointed groan come from Bobby. Adding more lube, he slipped in two fingers this time and went deeper until he found what he was looking for. A single caress of that bundle of nerves brought a startled cry from the hunter as he tightened around Crowley's fingers.

"Crowley!"

"That's it, luv. Almost ready." he murmured, scissoring his fingers and working them deeper. Bobby grunted, moving against the probing fingers and Crowley smiled. Cautiously he worked in a third finger.

Bobby let out a low cry, his breath coming in gasps. "Crowley. Damn it!"

Crowley smiled, moving down to catch Bobby's mouth with his own, plundering it ruthlessly. As he pulled back, his lips bruised and swollen, Bobby reached up to hook a hand behind his head and pulled him back down to return the favor. It took all his willpower to pull away.

Damn! That man can kiss!

Crowley pulled his fingers free and slicked up his cock, making sure he was well-covered before guiding it to Bobby's opening. He hesitated. "Are you sure?"

Bobby growled. "Jes shut up and fuck me already!"

Crowley chuckled and pressed into him. He heard Bobby grunt as he was breached then Crowley thrust forward, slipping into him easily enough once the head was firmly lodged.

Bobby grunted again, his eyes widening as he realized Crowley was firmly and fully into him. His breath came raggedly as he tried to work out how he felt about this. It hurt, yes, but it also felt good, in a weird I-can't-believe-this way.

He shifted his legs, drawing his knees up and gasped as the head of Crowley's cock rubbed against that sweet spot inside him. He groaned, shifting, wanting that feeling again.

"Crowley." he rasped. "Damn it, Crowley! Fuck me!"

Chuckling, Crowley raised his head from where he'd been resting it on Bobby's shoulder as he fought to maintain control long enough to give his lover the experience of his lifetime.

"Your wish," he purred. Bracing himself with a hand on either side of Bobby, he began to move. Long hard strokes that widened Bobby's eyes and made him gasp for breath. The sounds he made drove Crowley to new heights and he shifted closer, bracing himself. His strokes became shorter and harder, almost rocking in place. Bobby was making sounds of pleasure, meeting his every thrust.

"Bobby," he whispered thickly. "Ahhh, Bobby. So hot, so tight ..." The words, the thoughts, the reality turned him incoherent with only every third word understandable. Bobby laughed then moaned as Crowley shifted his angle, the head of his cock stroking that bundle of nerves as he moved.

Bobby's hands gripped the demon's shoulders as he moved to meet each thrust. He couldn't believe he was actually enjoying this. He'd thought he'd just ... well, he didn't know what he thought. He stopped trying to think and just enjoyed, slipping one hand from Crowley's shoulders to stroke himself in time to the demon's thrusts.

Crowley moved even closer, grunting with each stroke until his hips stuttered in place and he cried out with his release. His hands gripped the sheets as he pressed in, holding himself deeply inside Bobby, gasping as he came harder then he ever remembered coming before. His eyes were screwed shut so tightly that he could see explosions of light behind his lids, the first he'd seen in anything save dreams since he was blinded.

Bobby watched him, watched the intense pleasure on his face and was content, knowing he'd done right by the demon despite any misgivings he may have had then he gasped in surprise as his own orgasm overtook him. He groaned, half-aware of Crowley's hand joining his to pump him dry. Emptied he collapsed on the bed, too drained to even think of cleaning up and too content to care. He looked up at Crowley, who looked ready to collapse. Only his locked arms kept him from doing so.

"Hey," Bobby said softy, stroking one of his arms gently.

Crowley smiled and shifted, gently withdrawing from his body. The other man winced at the sensation then relaxed, watching as the demon stretched out next to him, fingers lazily trailing through the stickiness on Bobby's belly before bringing them to his lips to lick clean.

"I wish," the demon whispered then he froze, face going blank as he realized what he had just said.

"What?" Bobby half-growled.

Crowley raised his head, sightless eyes turned in his direction. "I wish I could see you." His voice was quiet.

Bobby snorted. "Same old ugly mug. Hasn't changed a bit."

Crowley frowned. "Not ugly," he corrected. "More like lived in."

"Like that's better?"

Crowley only smiled as he rested his head on his lover's shoulder. "So what do you think?"

Bobby stroked Crowley's hair idly. "Different," he said at last then admitted. "Enjoyable. With the right person."

"Yes. With the right person."

They lay together for several minutes before Crowley sighed. "Feel like a shower?"

"Feel like I need one. If I could move."

That brought laughter from the demon, laughter Bobby readily enjoyed. Because it was real laughter, not mocking or sarcastic or cruel. It was all Crowley.

His Crowley.

"Bobby," Crowley murmured sleepily.

"Hmmmm?"

The demon stirred against him, rubbing his cheek on his chest. "Thank you," he said at last and in those words were other words, words that, as a demon, he could never say out loud.

_I love you._

Bobby smiled, pressing his lips to the top of Crowley's head. "You're welcome."

_I love you, too._

_

* * *

_

_This story is complete. A sequel is in the works.  
_


	4. Notes

No, there's nothing new (yet). Just a note to those who are faithfully following this story that the wonderful victorianpantaloons has done some artwork for this story. You can find it at: victorianpantaloons_tumblr_com/ post/ 35692452724. Just cut, paste, remove spaces, and replace underscores with periods.

On a further note, yes, I am working on the sequel. My New Year's resolution is to get back into writing and finish the stories I have out there as well as work on the stories I've been talking about. Please keep an eye on my bio/profile for information.

And on another side note, I will be updating this story before the sequel is posted. Some changes need to be made; nothing earth shattering, mostly tweaks to clarify some things and correct other things that mess up future stories.


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